Review: ‘Dynamite’

Those familiar with Cecil B. DeMille's work will see almost a resume of his entire screen career [to date] in this society picture heavily seasoned with dramatic hoke.

Those familiar with Cecil B. DeMille’s work will see almost a resume of his entire screen career [to date] in this society picture heavily seasoned with dramatic hoke.

Elaborate boudoir, bath, wild stew party, rakish Mercedes, fantastic sport carnival – they’re all here, and always in the background the shadow of the People as expressed, in this instance, by a miner, whom the spoiled society bud has wed in prison on the eve of execution. All to comply with a will, leaving her millions, in order that she may buy another woman’s husband.

Story unwinds the gradual urge for each other between the he-man and the spoiled child of wealth, after he has declared that she’s worthless and walked out.

It’s DeMille’s first talker and Kay Johnson’s debut in pictures. She butters the screen with a world of class and ability.